


Honey Grove

by ardvari



Series: keeping bees [3]
Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 03:28:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10653963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ardvari/pseuds/ardvari
Summary: Sara tapped her feet to the song coming out of the old, paint spattered radio sitting next to her on the patio steps, the smell of paint mixing with the smell of citrus. A year after they had bought the property the house was finally ready for them to move in.





	Honey Grove

_New beekeepers are often told that the way to find the elusive queen is by first locating her circle of attendants._  
\- The Queen Must Die: And Other Affairs of Bees and Men

Sara tapped her feet to the song coming out of the old, paint spattered radio sitting next to her on the patio steps, the smell of paint mixing with the smell of citrus. A year after they had bought the property the house was finally ready for them to move in.

The wiring had been old, the roof leaky and the pipes rusty and yet the house was worth every cent they had spent on it. 

Behind her the plastic covering on the floors inside the house moved and crinkled in the wind blowing through the open doors as she slowly sipped a glass of lemonade and stared out at the rows of trees, the branches swaying in the wind. 

“Sara, are you sure you want a green kitchen?” Grissom stepped through the door and held up a paradise- green paint roller. He looked slightly pained, formerly a fan of blacks and whites and grays, not yet comfortable with all the other colors he had been able to ignore. Until now. 

“Only the walls are green, Grissom, not the whole kitchen. And it’s not like it’s even bright.”

“Oh, you wanna come take a look? Because it looks pretty bright to me. And the cabinets don’t really cover that much wall space.” he said in that slightly haughty voice that made her want to punch him just a little.

She scrambled to her feet, wiped her hands on her jeans and frowned at him good-naturedly. 

The kitchen really didn’t look bad; the green was warm and perfect and she was in love with it.

“I like it.” she said, pursing her lips slightly.

“It’s very green.” 

“Grissom, just because it isn’t white doesn’t mean it’s bad. I really like it.”

“I’m gonna have to wear sunglasses to have breakfast.”

She snorted at that and looked at him holding the paint roller, blue eyes fixed on the offending wall across from them. 

“You’re exaggerating. That’s very unscientific of you, you know?” Her fingers played with the buttons on his paint spattered shirt and he sighed.

“Maybe I’ll get used to it.” he grumbled as she leaned in and kissed him. 

“You will, I’m sure. Do you think we can sleep upstairs tonight?” Sara looked past him into the living room and to the air mattress on the floor in front of the windows. 

He followed her eyes and smirked. Despite them sort of always huddling together when they slept, the air mattress had been slightly uncomfortable and squeaky and much too confining. 

“Yeah, I think so. Hey, what do you think about checking on how the bees have settled in after I finish painting the kitchen? Then we can move the furniture around in the bedroom.” 

“Sounds good. Come find me on the patio. I have one more window frame to paint.” A haphazard kiss landed close to his lips before she sauntered out of the room and back out onto the patio.

That seemed to be her favorite spot, the sun warmed slabs of stones under her feet with the house they had painted a burned orange at her back. It was paradise, she decided as she picked up her paintbrush and hummed along to the new song on the radio. 

*+*+*+*

Grissom carefully pulled the bee bonnet down over her head, his eyes never leaving hers. She smiled up at him, giddy and lightheaded because she loved moments like this where nothing else mattered, just the two of them in the warmth of the honey shed pulling on what she called bee armor. 

Despite all the books she had read about how bees can feel love and if you just send out enough love they won’t harm you, she held a deep respect for them, no fear but a healthy amount of self preservation that wouldn’t allow her to take her gloves off for fear Grissom might startle her again, offending the bee she might have sitting on her hand.

“You know you’re not a real beekeeper until you’ve gotten stung.” he quipped lightly as he tugged on her veil and she wondered when exactly he had started reading her mind.

“Well, I’ve been a real beekeeper for a while then. Most likely I’m the only girl to ever get a bee sting instead of an engagement ring after a proposal.” she grinned and watched him put on his own bee bonnet.

“You’ll never let me live that down.” he stated with a hint of a sigh, grabbed her gloved hand with one hand and the bee smoker with the other and laced his fingers through hers as they walked out of the honey shed and into the bright sunlight.

The beehives sat on the acre of grass behind the hedge, separating them from the citrus groves. The area was surrounded by trees of all kinds, a little piece of wide open space amidst the magical forest.

Grissom stopped, pulled her into his side and smiled.

“Close your eyes and listen.” he commanded gently and she did.

She closed her eyes, exhaled with a sigh and listened. The sound was faint at first, as if her ears had to get used to it but after a moment it grew louder, a steady hum that wasn’t like anything she’d heard before.

It wasn’t like static or something human made, it was wild and alive and full of deep satisfaction, something that vibrated all the bones in her ear and seeped into her body like honey. 

For a while she was lost in the constant hum, let herself be carried along on the sound waves as if she was floating in a river of honey water that carried her along slowly.

The hum became part of her, as if her heart was a beehive and when she opened her eyes they were big and bright and full of wonder.

“I never really listened to them before.” she admitted, wondering what it would be like to crawl into one of the hives and go to sleep surrounded by the hum.

“It’s one of the most amazing sounds in the world I think. Thought you might like it.” He tugged on her hand again and pulled her towards the hives, the bee smoker smoking softly beside them, leaving a trail of grey blue smoke diffusing on the air behind them.

“It’s like… getting a massage from the inside. As if bees are dancing in my chest.” she tried to explain but knew there were no words to describe the sound.

They checked on each of the hives, pulled out the frames and watched the bees take off, fly towards the groves, watched others come back and crawl into the hives. Life in the hives never stopped or slowed down; those bees were on an eternal mission.

After a while they turned back towards the citrus groves and the house feeling humble, hands still linked, neither of them wanting to speak and break the silence that had settled over them. The honey shed against the hedge looked like a small house, weathered, sturdy wood with small windows and enough room for an extractor and a wall full of jars that would be filled with honey and forms for beeswax candles and whatever else they needed.

Sara couldn’t wait to light beeswax candles in the house, letting the earthy scent waft through the house until every room smelled deep and warm and sweet. 

They walked back towards the house, their bee bonnets and overalls hung up neatly, still silent as they moved the furniture around in the large bedroom. Finally they agreed on a spot for the bed, pushed it against the wall and arranged the other furniture around it. 

Sara showered while Grissom plugged in the lamps and alarm clocks and nailed a few pictures on the walls and Grissom showered while Sara made the bed, straightened the sheets and the pictures on the walls and put books on the shelves. 

Most of the books were downstairs in the office, already finished and set up completely but the few books they read just for pleasure she wanted to have in here, close to the bed so she could pick one up and leaf through it before she fell asleep.

Sitting on the bare floor in the living room in front of the cold fireplace, between plastic-covered couches and freshly painted walls, they ate scrambled eggs and fresh bread from the market and drank white wine. 

The sun tinted the room a deep orange, reflecting off the light orange walls, warm colors bouncing around, stretching into corners and filling the room with liquid brightness. 

“I can’t wait to taste our first honey.” Sara said dreamily and stretched out on the floor, pressed her spine against the unrelenting wood and sighed deeply.

“It’ll be delicious, I’m sure. I can’t wait to taste your lips after you’ve tried it.” She could hear the laughter, the gently tease in his voice and pursed her lips squinting at him. 

Turning onto her side, she rested her head on her arm and looked up at him. 

“Hmmm… I’m tired. Will you read to me until I fall asleep?”

That was a new ritual, Grissom reading to her out of one of the older books about bees, the ones in which the authors sounded less scientific and more in love with the idea of bees and beekeeping and honey making. She loved those books, the poetic language and the way she could feel the enthusiasm of the authors trickling down her spine, making her feel warm and whole.

Grissom nodded, ran a hand through her hair and got up on creaking knees, carried the plates and glasses out to the green kitchen and helped her to her feet before he led her upstairs.

They moved around each other like practiced bees, going about their business until they fell into bed, both of them sighing happily at the firmness of the mattress and the sheets and covers and pillows surrounding them smelling like vanilla and lavender fabric softener. 

Sara rested her head on Grissom’s chest, her arm circling around him as he read out of a red hardcover book, the pages yellowing with age. She fell asleep to the sound of his voice, every word vibrating beneath her ear, humming along her veins just like the hum of the bees.


End file.
